


The morning after the night before

by emothy



Series: Rewritten [11]
Category: Prince of Tennis
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-02-02
Updated: 2007-02-02
Packaged: 2017-10-04 05:35:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 915
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26598
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emothy/pseuds/emothy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set in Germany. The morning after the night before. (Follows <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/26596">the night before the morning after</a> funnily enough!)</p>
            </blockquote>





	The morning after the night before

-

"Fuji..." It feels almost like a sin to slice through the peace, even if he does it as softly as he can. "Fuji..."

"Mmm?" He was obviously already somewhat awake, to hear such a quiet voice, but Fuji just did not want to get up. Which would have been fine, except for the fact that he was currently sprawled almost completely across Tezuka in the single bed, and keeping him from rising to meet the day.

"I have to get up now." He says, making a point of the fact that Fuji can stay in his bed as long as he likes. "I have to go running. I have a schedule to keep to."

"Do we have to?" He replies, trying to bury his head into Tezuka's chest. Apparently he does not consider himself exempt, even though it's Tezuka's rehabilitation menu alone. It makes Tezuka want to smile.

Instead, he reaches to the nightstand for his glasses, and puts them on. When the world comes into sharper focus, Fuji's head is up, chin resting on his palm, and his eyes are open to meet Tezuka's.

"Last night was..." Fuji's mouth softens into a smile; he is lacking sufficient words for once. The lack is just as poignant as his turns of phrase usually are, this time. Tezuka knows he does not have to make a reply.

"I have to get up now." He repeats eventually, still softly, but persistent.

"...Yeah." Fuji agrees fuzzily. He pushes himself up using his arms, and presses his mouth to Tezuka's. "Just give me a minute."

"Luckily I do have a minute to spare for you." Tezuka says. "Usually I would shower."

"Well," Fuji says diplomatically, "we do need to."

"Might as well wait til after the run, now." Tezuka shrugs, which isn't easy when he's still half sat up in bed and Fuji is still largely draped across him.

"My goodness," Fuji says, sitting up properly; still on Tezuka, he notices, "I must have unlocked a whole new Tezuka Kunimitsu at some point last night while having sex with him. I'm not sure what I think of that; if his sense of personal hygiene is so lacklustre, who knows what other troubles there could be."

"Get dressed." Tezuka replies, wanting to roll his eyes, make an unimpressed noise somewhat related to a grunt, or just push Fuji off the bed entirely. The only reason he resists the last option is because even when he falls unexpectedly, Fuji manages to make it look beautiful. And if he ends up on the floor tangled in the bedsheet, hair mussed and eyes wide, intentionally coy, Tezuka will never stay on schedule.

"It's early." Fuji notes, finally waking up as he is forced to quicken his pace to keep in step with Tezuka.

"No-one else will be up for a while yet." Tezuka agrees. Fuji smiles at that, wondering if they are thinking the same thing, and then deciding probably not; when Tezuka does something he does it properly, so his attention is probably currently on his jogging. His speed, his heart-rate, something like that which is currently insignificant to Fuji.

They both return to his room layered in a thin sheen of sweat; that, to Fuji, is not insignificant at all. It follows his train of thought almost too well.

Fuji expects the next logical step to be to take a shower, and Tezuka removing his shirt supports the theory. But when Fuji takes off his own and discards it on the back of Tezuka's chair, his vision comes back to Tezuka sitting on the still rumpled bed, his right hand supporting his left shoulder as he begins to move it slowly in small circles. He wonders why he feels even slightly surprised; Fuji has seen Tezuka's schedule, even seen the diagrams of exercises Tezuka is currently utilising to encourage his shoulder's recovery. Tezuka had shown him last night, when everyone else had taken the hint one by one to go to bed, leaving the two of them alone in his room finally.

"Is there anything I can do?" He asks, his breath brushing over Tezuka's neck, the tips of his hair tickling bare skin. The mattress sinks a little as he sits himself down behind Tezuka, resting his cheek between Tezuka's shoulder blades and glancing up. Tezuka takes a deep breath before he replies; Fuji is grateful he gets one at all.

"If you could use your hand to support the back of my shoulder, it would be helpful." He says stiffly. Fuji nods, though Tezuka cannot see it, knowing that help is hard to bear no matter who or what it is. He pushes his palm against a muscle, the same way he can see Tezuka doing it from the front, and feels Tezuka's approval in the way his muscles loosen ever so slightly.

"And the other..." He says, reaching down idly with his right hand to Fuji's one supporting them both by holding Tezuka's hip. "You can put it on the front..." Tezuka guides Fuji's hand to the correct spot, letting him press down and apply the right amount of pressure on his own, but not taking his hand away from where it lays on top. He begins to rotate his shoulder again, slowly.

Fuji carefully spreads the fingers of his right hand until Tezuka's are entwined with his.

_This is not the real you. You'll be at your best again soon._ It says.

_I know._ Comes the reply.

-


End file.
